


The Jedi's Hand

by JediMordsith



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: AU, D/s elements, F/M, Grey Luke, NSFW, Post-byss, Power Dynamics, Smut, series of interrelated one-shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 22:29:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14530629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JediMordsith/pseuds/JediMordsith
Summary: Post Byss, Luke slides into Grey Jedi territory, determined to do whatever it takes (this side of the Dark Side) to protect his family and his Order. He struggles until Mara takes note and makes him an offer he can't refuse. With her as his Hand, he will bring the galaxy to heel.





	1. The Offer

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially smutty drawer fic with bits of plot and angst thrown in for color. Expect a series of one-shots and highly irregular updates. The first 'chapter' showed up on Tumblr, everything thereafter is new.

_[Luke comes back from Byss with a new perspective on what must be done to protect his Order and his family. In public, he is ever the good Master. In private, the world and his choices are far more grey. Mara notices and decides he needs a Hand. Here she’s gone to make him an offer.]_

Luke considered her gravely. Then he reached out and ran her braid between his fingers, his blue eyes dangerously dark.

“If we do this,” he told her, softly, “I have to have you. Completely. Exclusively.”

Mara tipped her head, cocked an eyebrow in challenge. “Are you sure you can handle all of me? I won’t go unsatisfied because you’re tired or _busy,_ Skywalker.”

She’d expected his gaze to take on a wicked, teasing glint but, instead, it went deeply grave. He trailed a finger down her cheek and heat pooled low in her belly.

“If you are mine, I will never let you want for anything, Mara.”

She hesitated, then said firmly, “I won’t be whored out.”

“Did _he_ do that to you?”

She held her ground. “Brie was the whore. He used me for… other things. But you’re only going to have me and I won’t do that. Even for you.”

Luke ran his knuckles across her cheek. “I would never share you, Jade.”

“Kiss me.” If she is right, this will be the last time she is the one issuing commands between them. She prays she is right.

Slowly, Luke eased his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her toward him. His lips were warm and dry against hers, soft at first, then deepening their demands when she responded. Mara melted into him, parting her lips instinctively, and felt him take more. His tongue darted into her mouth, tasting her, and he moaned against her lips. Her hands fisted in his tunic, and his arms came around her, molded their bodies together.

_You’re mine, Mara. My Hand. I have to have you._

She broke from the kiss, panting, and leaned back just enough to meet his eyes. “Yes, Master.”

\- - 

Luke woke the next morning to a warm weight across his chest and his fingers still tangled in Mara’s hair. His body ached all over with the pleasant kinks that came from a night of vigorous lovemaking after being too long celibate, and he pressed a kiss to the top of Mara’s head. He slid his hand down her spine, over the curve of her naked hip.

“Morning, Master,” she murmured, turning her head to kiss his chest, before looking up at him, green eyes clear and bright.

Luke grinned. “How did I go so long without a Hand?” he asked.

Mara looked amused and shrugged one slender shoulder. “Outer Rim ignorance?”

He swatted her in indignation, and she laughed and rolled off of him. “Rise and shine, Farmboy, there’s work to do.”

Luke feigned an affronted expression. “What? You’re not going to bring me caff in bed?”

His Hand shot him a dirty look before disappearing into the fresher. “What do you think all those nubile young Jedi girls are for?”

That made him laugh aloud and he rose, following her into both the fresher and the shower. “Such naughty thoughts, Jade,” he teased, enjoying the feel of her skin under his fingers as he helped her wash.

“You liked them well enough last night, _Master_.”


	2. In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mara returns from a mission and Luke welcomes his Hand home. (PWP.)

Mara stepped inside the apartment and dropped her bag. No lights came on - she’d long since rewired the controls. She preferred the dark, the enveloping comfort of it. The way lack of sight sharpened every other sense. The feel of the carpet on her bare feet when she kicked her boots off. The scent of lavender and lemon she programmed the environmental controls to circulate through the finely filtered air. The low-level hum of electronics in sleep mode, and the heavier silence they rippled through. All the places her Master sent her – loud and bright and violent – they were work, her duty. She welcomed them for that, but _this_ – this was home, and she sank into the feel of it with gratitude.

She knew every inch of the space by heart and moved unerringly through the modest living space into the bedroom. She stripped efficiently, then slipped into the refresher. She spun the dial of the sani-steam nearly to its highest setting, pleased to have access to a proper water shower again. Sonics were fine, but they didn’t truly compare. When steam began to billow out of the tiled, transparisteel-encased cubicle, she stepped in and gave a happy sigh as the hot water soaked her.

A warm, ghostly caress slid down her spine and she smiled. Luke had registered her return. Even with her Force sense cloaked from the rest of the world, as it habitually was now, she was never invisible to him. She sent back a brush of acknowledgement, then withdrew her attention back to bathing, savoring the smell of her favorite cleanser as she scrubbed the grime of work and travel away. The cleanser was indulgently expensive, but the way it never failed to draw her Master’s mouth to her skin was worth any price. Rinsing herself off, she stepped out of the shower and paused under the rush of warm air from the auto-dry.

Leaving the ‘fresher, she didn't bother to dress. It was warm in the apartment; Farmboy didn't like the cold. It would be a little while till he reached her, so she padded to the kitchen. The bottle of ruby wine remained in the conservator where she’d left it and she poured herself a glass. Detouring past her bag to snag her data pad, she took it and her glass to bed. Pushing back the covers, she stretched out on her stomach on the silky sheets.

She feigned indifference when Luke materialized in the darkness, neither moving nor looking up. He didn’t need the lights any more than she did. This had been his room, once, before he'd ostensibly moved into the Temple full-time. Officially, she was sub-letting the place from him and had just never bothered to change much of the decor. Privately, her domain had become his escape. Smug pride burned in her chest at the thought, as it always did. Let his Order and his Republic preen claim him publicly. Let them glare at her sideways every time she set foot in their spaces, their condescension thinly masked and rank. He entertained their childishness out of necessity, for now. He’d _chosen_ her.

Mara stifled a smile at the rustle of fabric in the dark. Her senses tracked the easy movement as her wine glass was lifted. She envisioned the rich garnet-colored wine at Luke’s lips and her body tingled in anticipation of those lips on her. She felt his ripple of amusement across the bond they’d forged but whatever offense she might have taken burned away under the wash of lust that followed it as his eyes trailed over the outline of her body in the faint glow of her data pad. The glass returned to the side table with a defined _clink_. 

The bed shifted with Luke’s weight. Arousal crackled up Mara’s spine and out to her fingertips like a static charge as he straddled her back, leaning over her on hands and knees to drop a line of kisses across her bare shoulder. His lips were damp from the wine and Mara’s eyes fell half shut, imagining his mouth leaving dark imprints across her pale flesh as he tasted her.

“Welcome back, my Hand.” The words were a low rumble, welcome and promise and want all rolled together in the voice that dictated her life, her world, her dreams.

She twisted her head around and he captured her lips in a hungry kiss.

_Thank you, Master._

Mara soaked in the pool of Luke’s desire, the weight of her recent mission falling away under the drugging euphoria of his approval and affection. She hummed in pleasure as his lips moved to her throat. One of his hands found its way into her hair, running the strands through his fingers confident and leisurely.

“How long do we have?”

His mischievous smile curved against her skin. “I'm meditating. All night.”

“Such a good Grand Master,” she murmured, her body arching up against his with a small moan as his deft fingertips caught and rolled one of her nipples, then pinched lightly.

“What about you? Have you been a good little Hand?” Luke's hand slid down her body with a familiar possessiveness, then dipped between her legs.

“Yes, Master.” The words came out on a soft gasp as he swiped the pad of a finger over her clit.

“Hmmm.” Luke’s body pressed harder into hers, then he pulled back, the arm around her waist catching and rolling her over under him.

Mara let him pin her down, her hands fluttering over his lean-muscled frame in the soft, teasing touch she knew would amp up his need. His mouth captured hers, hungry and plundering. He shifted his weight to one arm, his right hand returning to between her thighs. She felt no shame at the slick that coated his fingers, made it easy for him to thrust a finger into her.

“What do you suppose I should meditate on, my Hand?”

His voice was low and seductive and they'd been apart too long. Luke nuzzled at her throat, then lower, nibbling at a plump, peaked nipple as he set a rhythm to the finger-kriffing. Not rough, but steady. Unrelenting. Mara squirmed, tilting her hips in a silent plea for more.

“The unifying Force?” She offered, breathlessly, gripping his shoulders tightly as she rode his hand, grinding into the touch, pleasure sweeping and swirling through her. Her heightened awareness magnified everything – the beads of sweat at her temples, the brush of Luke’s lips over her heated skin, the damp smearing against her skin where her body seemed to be liquifying and pouring itself out in offering over his deft, divine fingers.

Luke leaned into the bond and the sense of being watched grew sharp and hot. Mara rocked, gasping, under the full weight of her Master’s attention. He was a sun in the Force, blazing and all consuming and every ounce of that energy radiated approval – of _her_. Of the way she was for him, right now.

_Such a good little Hand._ Luke’s hand rotated, his thumb burrowing into her folds to rub at just the right place. He returned his mouth to her breasts, his sense pressing in demandingly on hers. _Come for me._

It was a command, no less seriously given than any mission he’d ever dispatched her on, and Mara’s body obeyed instinctively. She gave a quiet, desperate mewl as her entire body went taut, pleasure detonating and obliterating conscious thought.

Luke didn’t give her time to recover. Shifting up, he pressed her legs open wider and sheathed himself inside her with a firm thrust. Mara gulped for air and clung, pressing her forehead to Luke’s shoulder as he took her, his thrusts uneven and rough. Too quickly he found his own release, dragging her over the edge with him again, the Force link between their bodies and souls renewed. Mara lingered, floating in an endless galaxy of stars until Luke reluctantly coaxed her back, out of her disembodied bliss and back into the shell of her own body, limp and heavy with satisfaction. 

Her Master lay against her, half on her, unwilling or unable to move in his own satiated stupor. Movement came back slowly and Mara tracked her return to full awareness by the increasing intricacy of the patterns her fingertips traced on Luke’s back. When she managed to inscribe the delicate form of the character for “devotion” in Naboo between Luke’s shoulder blades, she deemed herself coherent and controlled enough to speak.

“That was an excellent meditation session, Master.” Her voice was soft but lilted a bit in amusement, teasing, at the euphemism they’d taken to using for these rendezvous.

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her skin. “It was,” he agreed. “But I hardly think I'm done applying myself to the subject this evening.”

“Mmm,” she purred. “I should hope not.”

Luke sighed, his hand moving to caress her wistfully. “I've missed you.”

Mara basked in the admission. “I know.” She lifted a hand, threaded her fingers through his tousled hair.

Tomorrow, she would go to the Temple. She would claim to be there for a scheduled training session and they would sit in one of the bright, airy rooms, eyes closed and posture flawless. She would give her report through their bond, sharing glimpses of her memory of having carried out the work he'd secretly sent her do. He would assign her more tasks to further his larger plan. Time and necessity and the mechanics of their façade would drive them apart again for as-yet undetermined amounts of time.

But morning was still a long way off. Here, in the darkness, Luke was hers and hers alone.


End file.
